Hindi Ka Nagiisa
by IceFlake 77
Summary: We Americans like to think that we taught Filipinos democracy. Well, tonight, they're teaching the world." -Bob Simon, CBS anchorman. Late tribute to President Cory Aquino. Contains OC Nation and real people.
1. Nobyembre 1969: Unang bahagi

Disclaimer:  
I do not, in any way, own Hetalia Axis Powers, nor am I making profit from this work. Felipe Rizal (surname subject to change. XD) is OC!Philippines-tan, created by me and my friend.

Warnings:  
OC!Nation-tan (Philippines), use of real people as characters, use of foreign language (Filipino)

Summary:  
"We Americans like to think that we taught Filipinos democracy. Well, tonight, they are teaching the world." – Bob Simon, CBS anchorman

* * *

**Hindi Ka Nag-iisa  
**_**By: IceFlake 77  
**__(Dedicated to the late President Corazon Aquino)_

**Chapter 1: Nobyembre 1969**

It was November 1969.

_Everything around him was so grandeur, and he didn't think that it was only because of the majestic ballroom they were in was decorated so lavishly. True, he did ogle the pristine white tablecloths that covered the top of each of the wide, circular tables which occupied most of the available space, except for a wide aisle in the middle of the hall that would probably be used as a stage, in replacement of a real one; the extravagant centerpieces that sat in the middle of each table, all of them the most gigantic bouquets of flowers he had seen his entire life, with the main defining characteristic of each a single green palm leaf; and simply the venue itself, with its almost impossibly high ceilings, its scarily humongous and elegant glass chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, and its degradingly majestic double doors, but he decided that these all paled in comparison to the people around him, all of whom were dressed in their very best _barongs, _or _ternos, _or dresses._

_The stars of the entire affair, the members of the Marcos family, were scattered throughout the place. President Marcos was having a very animated conversation with the Secretary of Justice Juan Ponce Enrile, one of his most trusted men, as First Lady Imelda helped usher in the guests, greeting each one with a smile, a handshake, and a few words; meanwhile, all the children were huddled together in one area, probably talking about something less complicated and far less important than their parents._

_The only one who was not taking part of the celebrations was 14-year-old Maria, who simply sat next to Felipe, who had been told to keep a very low profile, and observed her surroundings, much like what he was doing._

_Felipe discreetly stole a glance of the girl next to him. For a young teenager, she looked distinctively mature, he noted. The way she dressed spoke highly of her family's status; the way she behaved of her wholesome upbringing; and the way she spoke of her perfectly honed, refined sophistication. She hardly seemed to be 14._

_She must've felt him staring, as she suddenly turned her head to directly face him. Their eyes met._

_Felipe knew that compared to the other Nations, he wasn't very fast at identifying emotions, but the girl's eyes practically dripped with an oddly serene sort of happiness._

_Contentment._

_He looked away, leaning even further into the back of his chair, as he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. He felt the hair at his nape stand up due to the feeling of her intense gaze on him._

"_What is it?" he heard her ask._

"_I-I was just thinking, that's all," he stuttered back, shifting uncomfortably, feeling like a zoo animal because of her looking at him. After a pause, he said, "You know…you don't have to…stay with me."_

"_You don't want me here?"_

"_O-Of course it's not that!" He abruptly reeled his head around and saw the gentle smile on her face._

"_I really like your company; really, I do," he quickly defended himself, gesturing with his hands, a habit of his, in an attempt to accentuate his point. "But the other people will think you're being oddly anti-social, especially since it's your father who's hosting this whole thing!"_

_He really wanted her to stay, he did, but in such a situation, he couldn't possibly allow himself to be selfish._

_She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Then let them think that."_

_Felipe sputtered lightly before retorting, "You're the daughter of the president! And his eldest child, no less!" Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest before chiding, "Imagine what people would say about you…"_

_Her laugh was a measure of lighthearted staccatos, the sound of which resembled that of a bell. "Well, how about you? I can't possibly leave you all alone, Felipe!"_

"_D-Don't make me into an excuse for not doing what you're supposed to do!"_

_Really, he didn't like it when that happened._

_She coughed lightly. "Well, _Inay _and _Itay _said that I can do whatever I want and talk to whoever I want tonight," she coolly explained._

"_That doesn't mean you should just isolate yourself…"_

_She shrugged. _"Okay lang 'yan. _Stop worrying, will you? Look around; there are only kids and adults here."_

_And he did. True to her statement, there were adolescents and children running around, being followed (or rather, chased) by their _yayas, _and adults, who populated most of the room, were scattered, discussing quietly among themselves, but no one who appeared to be Maria's age fell into his line of vision._

"_I'd rather be reprimanded, if ever, for enjoying my time here with you, instead of be praised for miserably socializing with people I don't want to talk to," she softly stated, only loud enough for the two of them to hear._

_He turned to her again, a surprised look on his face. He bit his lip as he stared into the chocolate-colored eyes looking into his own just as intently._

"_Imee…" Her nickname escaped his lips as he gave a lopsided grin, like one a big brother would give to an overzealous little sister, before sighing. "You really do know just what to say and when, don't you?" he commented, to which she laughed._

"_I guess I got it from _Itay."

_And he had no doubt about it._

* * *

**Translations (Filipino --**** English):  
**_**Inay **_and _**Itay -- **_Mother and Father, respectively  
_**Okay lang 'yan -- **_That's okay.  
_**Yaya --**_Nanny

**Terno – **a type of dress


	2. Nobyembre 1969: Pangalawang bahagi

_After everyone had settled down, the first course of the meal was brought out by many waiters who professionally carried the plates on top of brown trays with perfect balance. As the guests received their share, they picked their soup spoons, the one on the outermost side of their utensils, up, and started to eat, filling the hall with the click and clatter of metal gently bumping against chinaware._

_A few moments of supposedly savoring the taste of the rich liquid passed, and quiet chatter broke out once again. Next to Felipe, President Marcos started to converse with his wife, and the boy subconsciously relaxed a little, if not a lot._

_Felipe continued to dine in silence, looking at the people around him and indirectly eavesdropping on their hushed conversations, which proved to be rather difficult as all their voices mixed and wove into one another, forming an incoherent cacophony of incomprehensible sounds that his eardrums had the misfortune of hearing._

_It was noisy. He didn't like noise._

_Finishing the last of his soup, he licked his lips and gently let his spoon handle lean on one side of the plate to show whoever would clear the dishes away later that he was done._

_It was still noisy._

_In regular cases, he'd heatedly mutter his thoughts to his seatmate, who'd usually be a close (male) friend, but given the situation, he couldn't exactly do that. When what he'd usually do in regular situations proved to be inappropriate, he'd simply turn to a seatmate and start making small talk in order to drown out the noise, but he couldn't do that either, as President Marcos had given him a few rules for the night earlier._

"_**Don't speak unless you're spoken to, don't drawl when answering a question, think about what to say before actually saying it, and, **_**ay, Diyos ko, **_**don't cause a scene!"**_

_But Felipe liked to summarize the entire list as 'Keep a low profile.' He didn't know what the president had heard about the anthropomorphic country from Mr. Macapagal, the previous president, but whatever description the man gave must've closely resembled that of a delinquent, as the current ruler seemed to treat Felipe like one, always setting strict rules and giving specific reminders regarding all kinds of things. Despite that, though, he knew – no, he __**believed **__that it would only serve to better him as both a person and a country's personification._

_Or so he liked to tell himself._

_When what he'd usually do when what he'd usually do in regular situations proved to be inappropriate also proved to be inappropriate, he simply did the only thing he could do: close his attention in on one particular conversation._

_The problem with that course of action, though, was that when he'd turn his attention toward a particular exchange of words, he'd get too interested in the topic and would start wanting to join in and relay his own insights._

_To remedy this, as tedious as it might've been, he continuously switched his mindset to one conversation after another, mentally formulating opinions that he'd never get to share, before finding another topic to think about._

_The noisier it got, the faster he'd do this, and not long after, it started to get tiring._

_Even as the second, and then third course came, he still remained silent, as per his boss's orders, but somewhere along the start of the fourth course, he began feeling uncomfortable, the cause of which was unknown to him._

_Felipe tried to shake the feeling off by paying more attention to the people around him, but all of his attempts served to be futile, as the ugly feeling only got stronger and more unnerving, making him shift around rather self-consciously. He cleared his throat as he straightened up, continuing to cut his food into bite-size pieces. After a while of just absentmindedly doing that and realizing that his cutting wasn't yielding to anything, he made a conclusion._

_He couldn't concentrate anymore._

_He looked from side to side as subtly as he could whilst finally understanding what was going on and why he was feeling so anxious._

_He was being watched. By whom, though, he didn't know._

_The rest of the meal continued on like that, with Felipe, distracted and silent for the most part (unless he was spoken to, of course), looking at his surroundings every few minutes, trying to catch the culprit of his discomfort. This, though, resulted in the receiving of his seatmates' attention._

"_Are you all right?" The man to his right quietly asked._

"_What's wrong? Did you see a cockroach?" The one to his left went._

_Felipe smiled nervously and quickly answered, "Ah, no, no, it's okay. I just thought that someone passed behind me."_

"_Haha," the fatter of the two men laughed heartily and clapped a large, heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. _"Baka multo!"

"Hoy, grabe naman!" _exclaimed the other man, but he still snickered. "Don't joke about things like that, _pare."

"_Haha, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."_

"Sana wala nga, po," _Felipe interjected before sinking his teeth into the piece of viand that was still speared on the spikes of his fork. He spooned some rice and buttered vegetables into his mouth and as he chewed, looked around once more._

_Still nothing._

_Some time passed before the next course was served, mainly because some other guests were either horrendously slow in eating, extremely talkative, or both. It didn't really bother Felipe, though; in fact, it, in a strange way, relaxed him in his stressed state. _

_It wasn't because he was paranoid or anything, but he really wanted to know who it was that was watching him. He was used to being stared at, but not for this long. So he was thankful for the long wait in between courses; it simply meant more time given to him for searching._

_When dessert finally arrived, he huffed in annoyance; he still had not found who he was looking for. Straightening up in his seat, he turned his attention toward the tall glass of _buko _sherbet being placed in front of him. Thanking the waiter, he took the long spoon that sat inside the parfait glass and crushed the ice at the top a little more, in fear that it'd spill if he didn't._

_Felipe took one last glance around and told himself that he was just stressing himself out (in the middle of a party, no less!). It didn't matter, did it? It didn't matter if someone was staring at him, that is. He had to get used to it sometime, didn't he? Besides, he had better, more important things to think about than someone's intense gaze on him, right? It didn't matter, right?_

_Placing a spoonful of the shaved ice in his mouth, he frowned at the fact that he couldn't taste the _buko _since the dish was so cold that it numbed his taste buds. When he looked up again, his eyes met something they didn't expect to see:_

_Another pair of eyes._

_And this time, it _did _matter._

* * *

**Translations (Filipino - English)  
****Diyos ko **- My God  
**Baka multo! **- It might be a ghost!  
**Grabe naman! **- Whoa! (This is a hard phrase to translate. It's usually said when someone thinks that the statement is an exaggeration)  
**Pare **- Dude (or a close male friend)  
**Sana wala nga, po **- Let's hope there isn't. ('Po' is a word that is said periodically in a sentence to show respect.)

**Buko **– Apparently, in English, it's 'young coconut'. XD (I still feel sorry for macapuno. It's 'mutant coconut' in English. XDDD)


	3. Nobyembre 1969: Ikatlong bahagi

_As the night winded down and the guests began to take their leave, Felipe took advantage of the fact that the Presidential couple had their attention on something else in order to shuffle over to Maria's side and talk to her._

"_Imee," he softly said, grabbing her elbow, stopping her from walking to wherever she was about to go. "Can I ask a question?"_

"_Hm?" She acknowledged, turning towards him._

_He let go of her and creased his forehead with a furrow of his eyebrows. "Were you the one staring at me?"_

"_Oh, that." She grinned and laughed, showing that, indeed, it was her. "Yeah, why?"_

_He let out a puff of breath and let his shoulders go completely lax for the first time since the start of the fourth course. Leaning back, he ran a hand through his hair and flashed a smile that showed her that he was taking the whole experience in stride. "I was stressed out for half the night because of you."_

"_I figured," she responded, trying to muffle her laughter by covering her mouth using her hand. "You kept on looking around like some madman who had just seen a ghost!"_

"_Yeah, so said the guy to my left earlier."_

_They chuckled and let it fade away into a comfortable silence between the two of them; around them, the decibel level was slightly higher, but wasn't as loud as that of what a normal party would've had._

_A few minutes passed before Felipe broke the quiet, as nice as it might have been._

"_Tell me again _why _you were staring at me?" He cocked an eyebrow up at her, smirking, as he threaded his fingers together on his lap._

"_Well," she drawled as her gaze went all around the room, avoiding his own. "I was just thinking, is all."_

"_Of…?"_

"_Hm…" She looked at him then ran her eyes up and down his barong-clad body, as if trying to assess something. "You eat a lot."_

"_I only eat what's served to me," he replied. He wasn't so sure if she knew exactly who, or more specifically, _what _he was, so he couldn't exactly say anything that personal. Did Maria actually know that she constantly held conversations with the personification of her motherland? The less people who knew about it, the better, he supposed. Knowledge about who he was supposed to be just made life a lot harder._

"_That may be so," she retaliated, thoughtfully placing a finger on her chin. "But we give you quite a lot of food also at home."_

"_And…?"_

_Their eyes met. "You don't get any fatter."_

_To say the least, he was taken aback by the comment. True, he did eat a lot and he didn't get fat, but that was only because his weight was determined by how much an average middle-class Filipino weighed, just like the other Nations (but only God could explain why America wasn't obese)._

_They looked away at the same time, but he did note that there was a certain twinkle in her eyes that was sort of like the one a fan of a certain person would have if they saw their idol._

_Her voice took on a dreamy sort of tone, too, as if she was talking about some god-like being. "Actually, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been getting thinner!"_

_**Thinner.**__ That word struck him. Thinner. Thinner. _Thinner.

**Thinner?**

_For the average person, that would've been great; to be told that they were getting thinner despite how much they ate, of course, but for him…it simply unnerved him._

_He was getting thinner?_

_But that meant…_

"_You know," the girl continued to ramble on. "I seriously think you have a black hole in the stomach of yours. Or at the very least, a worm. I mean, ever since I met you, I can remember that you always ate a lot. You enjoy eating, don't you? There's nothing wrong with that, of course. It just strikes me that you never seem to gain weight from eating that much."_

_Looking back, he had been feeling strangely hungry all the time ever since a few months back. He had even commented about that when he was with America; that it felt very strange that he always felt hungry, even if he had just eaten a lot. That it was an insatiable hunger, incurable by any amount of food that he would eat. In return, the blond just looked at him with a worried look on his face. At the time, Felipe didn't get it._

_But now he did._

_He didn't care that he wasn't listening to Maria anymore. His right hand crept to his stomach as only one thought bounced around inside his head, and eventually escaped almost silently through his lips._

"_The Filipinos are starving."_

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**November 1969 was the month that President Ferdinand Marcos was voted for a second term, a feat as he is the first president of the Philippines to ever have achieved this.


	4. Ika 23 ng Septyembre, 1972

**Chapter 2: Ika-23 ng Septyembre, 1972**

It was the twenty-third day of September 1972.

"_**In light of recent events concerning public acts of hostility and violence," **__the man whose face was on every single channel at the moment spoke._

_Felipe stared at the screen; he had previously been watching his favorite television drama that, for some odd reason, aired at midnight, when President Marcos, who was staying just a few floors above him, no doubt, came onto the screen with a solemn look on his face, but with an eerily satisfied glow in his eyes._

_It unnerved him. It unnerved him greatly. And Felipe knew that if he was feeling it, a lot of other Filipinos were, too._

"_**Chief among those being the attempted assassination of Defense Minister Juan Ponce Enrile the other day ago," **__Marcos continued, purposefully drawing out his sentences to effectively drive his point home. __**"I have made a very important decision."**_

_Felipe felt his forehead crease as he furrowed his eyebrows at the screen; a dark, heavy feeling started to brew in his gut. Something was going to happen, and he couldn't guarantee if it would be something bad or something good._

_And he wasn't sure he wanted to stay tuned to find out. But it wouldn't matter if he did or didn't, after all; he'd know the verdict one way or another, whether he wanted to or not._

_Even if he didn't watch, the emotions of the people watching would still run through his body and rack him with an uncontrollable emotion._

_Realizing that, he leaned forward and increased the volume of the TV set with the turn of a knob. Not bothering to straight up in his seat after that, he simply supported his weight by placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, listening intently._

_He had to do this._

"_**I, Ferdinand E. Marcos, tenth President of the Philippines, by the power vested upon me by Article VII, Section 10, paragraph 2 of the 1935 Constitution of the Republic of the Philippines, have signed Proclamation No. 1081 as of the 21**__**st**__** of this month, thereby placing the entire Philippines under martial law."**_

_And his body's response to that was too strong, too overwhelming. All he could do was gasp loudly as all the wind in his lungs deserted him. The dark sensation that had merely been starting to take shape in his belly suddenly turned into an overpowering hurricane, a whiplash of a flurry of undesirable emotions that caused his stomach to do a back-flip and made him want to vomit._

_He cursed up, pressing his forehead against his knees, as his right hand clutched his stomach and his left flew up to his mouth. Groaning in pain, he screwed his eyes shut to prevent his tears, which had gathered up at the corners, from flowing out._

**It hurts…It hurts…!** _He desperately wanted to cry out, but prevented himself from doing so by biting his lower lip. Slowly, a coppery taste, a taste that was far too familiar for his liking, trickled onto his tongue, making his taste buds tingle in discomfort._

_Blood never was something he liked tasting._

_Even after a while, the distress he was feeling had still not faded away; instead, it only got stronger and more torturous, which meant that the Filipinos…the Filipinos…_

"_The Filipinos are scared," Felipe whispered to himself, cracking his eyes open just a tiny bit, just enough to let his tears drop onto the material of his expensive, brown, custom-made slacks, a gift to him from the Marcos family._

* * *

**Author's Notes:  
**On September 23, 1972, President Ferdinand Marcos went on air at midnight to announce that he was implementing martial law. The documents for it were actually signed two days prior to the announcement. This marked the start of significant opposition against the government.

Due to not finding any reliable sources as to what was actually televised that night, I made up a lot of what Marcos said, using the information about the situation that I already knew.


End file.
